


Hand To Hand

by OneThreateningAcronym



Category: Paranatural (Webcomic)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Pre-Slash, blood mentions, implied possible future relationship, we just don't know, what fresh hell have i sunken down into
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 09:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5863165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneThreateningAcronym/pseuds/OneThreateningAcronym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collin didn’t know what to do with Johnny Jhonny treating him like something close to an equal. Or what to do with the blood on his hands, for that matter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hand To Hand

Collin flinched back instinctively. He hadn’t meant to, and he regretted the sudden movement the moment it happened, but he couldn’t stop himself. Johnny let out an irritated sigh through his nose. The bully took a step back and sat down on his haunches, staring directly at the boy sitting on a cinder block in front of him.

“C’mon, Sloinne, it’s only gonna be worse the longer you wait,” Johnny said. He held a damp, bright white rag in one hand and a box of band aids in the other. The amount of patience he was exuding at that moment was unnerving the ever loving heck out of Collin and he wished he it wasn’t just the two of them here. They both knew Johnny was strong enough to hold him in place if he wanted to. Collin didn’t know what to do with the fact that he wasn’t.

Frankly, Collin didn’t know what to do with Johnny Jhonny treating him like something close to an equal.

He looked from the rag in Johnny’s hand and back to his patiently annoyed face, weighing several pros and cons in his head. As it turned out, the pros outweighed the cons of this situation, if only a little. Collin took a deep breath and nodded at the bully like a man who had accepted his fate. Johnny took his cue and stood up, rolling his eyes. Silently, the bully moved to kneel in front of Collin, bringing the rag up to an angry, red gash just above the other boy’s left eye. Flecks of dried blood clung to Collin’s skin; an odd contrast of reds and browns against the blooming bruises of Collin’s black eye.

Johnny cleaned the wound with an uncharacteristic gentleness. Collin squirmed in mild discomfort, partially due to pain and partially due to the frankly strange situation he found himself in. He clenched and unclenched his fists in his lap. The raw skin on his knuckles burned and the dried blood that wasn’t his itched on his palms. He stared down at them absently. They both served as a confirmation, of sorts, that what had just happened hadn’t been a hallucination. Hadn’t been a bad dream.

The silence between the two of them was deafening compared to the noisy Journalism Club shenanigans Collin was used to.

“So, uh...” Johnny started off eloquently, leaning back to examine his work on Collin’s forehead, “Four high school rutabagas by the Stop Drop and Pop store, huh? Didn’t know you had it in you.”

The small brunette didn’t know how to respond to that statement. Mostly because he was too bewildered by the use of  _ rutabagas _ as an insult. He settled for a small, half-hearted shrug. Seemingly satisfied with both Collin’s answer and his work cleaning the gash out, Johnny let out a hum of an acknowledgment and went about his next task. The bully plopped down, crossed his legs, and began trying to open up the box of band aids. The box did not seem on board with this idea. Johnny was met with some resistance.

Collin snickered quietly, “Do you need some help with that?” he offered.

Johnny’s answer was a grumble in the negative. After struggling with the cardboard for a few more seconds, Johnny growled and tore the entire top of the box off and threw it somewhere behind him. Collin winced in sympathy.

“So those guys looked a lot worse than you did when we showed up,” Johnny said conversationally, sorting through band aids. He flicked a glance up in Collin’s direction curiously, “Why was that one guy’s ear bleeding?”

Collin found a spot on the ground that looked just so  _ incredibly _ interesting and stared at it, ignoring the piercing stare being directed at him. He clenched his jaw in silence and tried to contain the shiver that raced down his spine. Johnny took note of this and, with the same absurd patience he’d been handling Collin with from the start, dropped the subject. The bully shrugged in kind and went to back to hunting for appropriately sized band aids. Collin looked at the bully in obvious surprise. Johnny didn’t look back up.

“You... you’re dropping it? Just like that?” Collin asked, astonished.

Johnny scoffed, glaring down at the cardboard box in his hands, “Who do you think I am, curlytop? I ain’t gonna interrogate you,” he answered, “Not when you clearly don’t wanna talk about it.”

Collin took a moment to let that information settle in his brain. He relaxed, just a little bit, and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He watched Johnny for a little while, staring dazedly as the bully meticulously sorted through bandages and sorted out the one he thought he’d need. Johnny was very thorough in his work, carefully taking out the right band aids and setting them in a pile on the floor by his foot. Collin couldn’t shake how strange it was to see the bully so intensely focused.

He was pretty sure this was a side of Johnny Jhonny that was exclusive to a very small number of people. He didn’t know how to feel about that.

Collin felt his chest tighten and looked away hurriedly before Johnny could catch him staring. His ears burned and the sudden rush of blood to his face made the gash on his head throb. He refocused his attention on his hands and wiggled his fingers, forcing his mind back on track before it went somewhere he didn’t want it to. His hands stung, of course. Punching someone wasn’t as easy or painless as the movies made it look. He had a feeling they’d be stinging for the next few days at least. The blood could be washed off.

_ The blood... _ Collin’s breath caught in his throat. Perhaps it was due to the fact that he hadn’t had long to dwell on it between being attacked and being rescued, but now that he had time to think the gravity of everything crashed down on him like a tidal wave of horror. Collin felt himself begin to shake and the deep breath meant to calm him nearly choked him instead. His vision swam. Collin covered his face with his hands, completely mortified as memory after memory looped through his mind.

“I shoved a pencil in it,” he whispered, voice muffled by his palms, “I shoved a pencil in his ear.”

The rustling sound of band aids against cardboard stopped abruptly. Collin flinched at the sudden quiet, curling in on himself as much as he possibly could. He didn’t dare look at Johnny. Collin was horrified enough by his own actions, he didn’t want to see that same feeling mirrored on someone else’s face. Collin was positive he wouldn’t be able to handle it. The silence hung heavy in the air and in Collin’s chest. His throat tightened as he tried to take another breath. Breathing was becoming strangely difficult. His heart beat wildly in his chest and blood thrummed in his ears. Dizziness came in a haze that made his head spin.

Johnny grabbed Collin by both of his wrists, tearing his hands away from his face and forcing Collin to look him in the eye, “ _ Starchman **Stars** _ Sloinne, breathe!”

The command sent a shock through Collin’s system and he became acutely aware that he was shaking like a leaf. He took a very sharp, shallow breath. Blinking away tears, Collin closed his eyes and tried to calm down. Tried to focus on the sound of his heartbeat. Accidentally focused on Johnny’s fingers wrapped around his wrists instead. Collin told himself not to dwell on that too much as his breathing finally began to even out. He took one, final breath and opened his eyes, feeling much less like he was drowning. Johnny’s unflinching stare was there to meet him and Collin almost jumped.

“You done freaking out yet, or do I need to employ some higher level consolation tactics?” Johnny asked, his grip on Collin’s wrists unwavering as he knelt in front of him.

Collin shook his head, “N… no, no I think I’m okay,” he paused, and amended, “Okay I’m not okay, but I guess I’m sort of okay? Maybe...?” Collin snapped his mouth shut, realizing he wasn’t helping his case in the slightest.

Johnny narrowed his eyes at Collin skeptically. Collin’s already shaky confidence in his own well-being faltered and he was forced to look away, unable to look Johnny in the eye. Collin felt the grip on his wrists tighten.

“Alright look,” Johnny began, pulling suddenly on Collin’s arms. Collin let out a small yelp of surprise as he was pulled face to face with the bully. Collin swallowed nervously at the deathly serious look on Johnny’s face. Johnny stared at the other boy for a good four seconds, certain to ascertain he had his attention, before speaking again, “There are two ways the rest of this conversation can go: either you tell me what’s eating you right now, or I’ll beat it out of you later.”

Collin’s eyes widened at that statement. In a panic he tried to pull away, but to no avail, “ _ Isn _ -isn’t that a bit  _ extreme _ !” he demanded.

“Extreme is stabbing someone in the ear with a pencil,” Johnny said bluntly. Collin cringed and looked away shamefully. Johnny pulled him back into the conversation, forcing Collin to meet his eyes, “Which is pretty obviously what your deal is right now. It’s written all over your dumb face.”

“Hey…!”

Johnny rolled his eyes, but the serious expression remained on his face, “This is the first time you’ve ever gotten blood on your hands, isn’t it?”

The weight of the question caught Collin off guard. He found himself slowly nodding, his mind trying to play catch up with the conversation and how it had taken that specific turn. Several things clicked into place in his mind, and a wave of indignation washed over him, “...You were waiting for me to start freaking out, weren’t you?”

The look of surprise on Johnny’s face was oddly satisfying, short as it lasted. The bully’s first response was a shrug before he answered properly, “Well, not exactly,” he paused, ignoring the expectant look on Collin’s face, “I guess I was waiting for the shock to wear off.”

“The shock?” Collin echoed.

Johnny nodded, “You’re not much of a fighter, amirite?” the bully bulldozed ahead without waiting for an answer, “This is all probably pretty new to you. The whole after fight patch-up, the adrenaline wearing off. Which makes it really, really impressive you took on, like, four high schoolers by yourself. Heck,  _ Ollie _ has a hard time with the high schoolers.”

Collin fidgeted, “You learn a lot working for Suzy,” he answered dodgily.

“Like stabbing people in the ear with pencils?”

Collin flinched again at the reminder, but not as hard as before, “Yeah… sometimes stuff like that,” he shot Johnny an unamused look, “Why do you keep bringing that up?”

“That you stabbed a high schooler in the ear with a pencil?” Johnny clarified innocently.

“Yes, that!” Collin snapped, letting out a small angry huff.

“Because it’s something you’ve gotta make okay with yourself,” Johnny answered. He let his grip on Collin’s wrist soften, holding their hands between the two of them gingerly. Collin had a feeling, though, if he tried looking away again the death grip would be back.

“This isn’t a thing you can just pretend didn’t happen,” Johnny explained, tone solemn and eyes devoid of any of their usual fire, “It’s something you’re gonna to have to face and deal with. There is  _ blood _ on your hands, Collin Sloinne. You stabbed someone in  _ the ear _ with a pencil and made them  _ bleed _ ,” Johnny leaned back a bit from Collin, who almost followed, but refrained. He focused instead on the emphasis Johnny put into his words. The bully sighed and shook his head, “You’d have to be one heck of a messed up fruit loop if you weren’t upset about that.”

“...I’m not sure how any of what you’re saying is supposed to make me feel better,” Collin admitted quiet after a small bout of silence. He pouted a little, “Though as I’m understanding it you’ve been waiting for me to have a break down since you made me sit on this dumb cinder block.”

Johnny scowled at that, “That’s the traditional after fight resting spot!” He shot back defensively, “I guess, _ yeah _ , I was waiting for you to freak out about the whole ‘stabbing someone in the ear with a pencil’ thing,” Collin gave him a look. The look was ignored, “But you were going to freak whether I was waiting for it or not!” Johnny pointed out with a huff.

Collin snorted at the sudden change in demeanor, a small smile working its way onto his face. Johnny noticed, blinked a little in surprise, and looked away with an embarrassed grumble. Collin just laughed again, taking great joy in the bully’s sudden sheepishness. He looked down at his and Johnny’s hands: noting the blood on his own hands and the bits of blood that had found their way onto Johnny’s. The blood belonged to neither of them, but there it was. On both of their hands.  

Collin felt the weight in his chest ease off, if just a little bit. He didn’t feel entirely better, but… he supposed this was a step in the right direction.

An awkward sounding cough pulled his attention back to the person holding his hands. Collin looked up to find that Johnny was still pointedly not looking at him. With a roll of his eyes Collin took a note of Johnny’s book and tugged on his arms. Johnny flailed a bit as he was pulled forward out of nowhere, trying to keep from falling quite literally into Collin’s arms. Johnny’s irritation at this sudden development was plain in his glare and Collin had to bite his tongue to keep himself from laughing again.

He couldn’t keep the smile off his face, though, soft and strained as it was,  “Thanks for being there... to help me deal with the fact that I stabbed someone in the ear with a pencil.”

Johnny shrugged nonchalantly, “Yeah, well, y’know,” he finally let go of Collin’s wrists and ran an open, anxious hand through his hair, “S’no problem. If you ever need that kind of help again.”

Collin pulled his hands close to his chest and rubbed one of his wrists absently, “Well, I don’t exactly plan on maiming anyone again anytime soon, so I wouldn’t count on it.”

Johnny rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Yeah, I won’t,” he replied, trailing off somewhat. Collin looked at him curiously. He couldn’t tell if it was a trick of the light or just ambient color from his hair, but he was sure Johnny’s face turned a few shades redder. The bully coughed again, “But, uh, you could always talk to me… about non-stabby stuff? If you want to, you know. I’d be down for that,” Johnny rambled, gesturing at nothing in particular like he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands.

It was Collin who turned a few shades of red this time. He glanced to the side, tenting his fingers together, “I… I think I’d like that.”

Collin turned back and gave Johnny a small, nervous smile.

Johnny grinned happily right back at him and Collin couldn’t help but match his enthusiasm.

_ Fond _ was never a word Collin would have ever used to describe his opinion of Johnny Jhonny, but apparently today was a day of firsts. First mugging, first blood on his hands, first weirdly personal conversation with someone he barely thought of on a day to day basis...

“Let’s finish getting you patched up,” Johnny said, grabbing the handful of forgotten, sorted band aids he’d laid out. Scooting a little closer to Collin, he peeled one open and gently applied it to the wound on Collin’s head. Collin fought the instinct to flinch away. Johnny shook his head, “Remind me to never get into a fight with you. Ever. Honestly, four high schoolers?” Johnny demanded in disbelief, “Where did you even learn to fight like that?”

Collin winced as a second band aid was placed on his head, fighting a losing war against a quiet laugh at Johnny’s tone, “Dimitri taught me, mostly,” he said. Collin paused as he debated saying more, scrunching his face up a little, “Except the pencil thing. Suzy suggested that to me once.”

“Figures  _ she _ would,” Johnny replied. Standing up, he took a few steps back and looked over Collin, who fought not to twitch. With a nod of finality he applied one last band aid to the wound,  “That oughta hold you over for awhile,” he said. He stared for a moment longer, his expression hard to read as Collin himself stood shakily from the traditional after fight resting spot, aka the very uncomfortable cinder block.

Collin felt Johnny take his hand before he actually saw the action; watching as the bully slung Collin’s arm over his shoulder and wrapped his own hand around the shorter boy’s waist for added support. Collin allowed himself to acknowledge this time that  _ yes _ , he  _ was  _ blushing, and that he was beyond happy that Suzy wasn’t here to make fun of him for it. He gratefully leaned some of his weight on Johnny and took some comfort in the warmth their proximity created.

Something in Collin’s head clicked.

He shot Johnny a sideways glance, “Where is everybody?” he asked, realizing finally how truly strange it was that neither of their respective groups were there with them.

Johnny began to walk before he answered, forcing Collin to follow along lest he be dragged to wherever their next destination was. Johnny’s brow furrowed in concentration, almost like was trying to remember something. His face lit up like a light bulb when he succeeded. A demented grin slowly took over Johnny’s features and Collin knew, instantly, that he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear.

“Pretty sure they all went together to burn a few rutabaga's houses to the ground.”

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I should say I have absolutely zero reason for this piece of fanfiction. Literally no excuse. This started out as something COMPLETELY DIFFERENT and I have no idea how this even happened or why it did, but here it is anyways.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
